“A girl that can’t hear or speak or write. They say she’s smuggled a bracelet in but they’ve searched her eight times and can’t get a trace of it, so they sent her to you.” “They don’t expect me to make the ninth attempt, do they?” the Chief queries. “Why, no,” Gibbs told him, “but they thought you might hand her the third degree.” “Bring her in,” the autocrat commanded. When Gibbs had closed the door Taylor turned to Duncan. “She’s probably bluffing. Put that chair here. We’ll try the gun gag on her. There’s a revolver in my second drawer. When I say ‘Go,’ you shoot. Got it?” “Yes, sir,” Duncan said, anticipating a theatrical scene in which his chief would shine as usual. Duncan always enjoyed such episodes; he felt he shone with reflected power. Gibbs dragged in a young girl and stood her in front of the chair to which the Chief had beckoned. “Sit down,” Gibbs commanded. The afflicted woman who was named, so Gibbs said, Sarah Peabody, remained standing. “Hey, _squattez-vous,_” her captor commanded again in a louder voice. Still Sarah was unmoved. Gibbs scratched his head and summoned his linguistic attainments to his aid. “_Setzen sie_,” he shouted, but Miss Peabody remained erect. Gibbs turned away with a gesture of despairing dignity. “I’m done,” he asserted; “that’s all the languages I know. I used to think it was a terrible thing that women could talk, but I guess the Almighty knowed more than I did.” Duncan essayed more active measures. He pushed her into the seat. “Hey you,” cried he, “sit down there.” Gibbs watched a little apprehensively. If Sarah Peabody had been normal, he would have pictured her as a slangy and fluent young woman with a full-sized temper. He had dealt with such before and they invariably defeated him in wordy combat. In duels of this sort Gibbs was slow to get off the mark. Taylor came toward the afflicted one and looked shrewdly into her face. “She’s not shamming,” said he. “She’s got that stupid look they all have when they’re deaf and dumb.” He watched her closely as he said this. “She ain’t spoke all day,” Gibbs volunteered, “and no woman what could, would keep from talking that long.” “Women will do a lot for diamonds,” his chief observed. “None of ’em ever do me for none,” Gibbs remarked placidly. Suddenly Taylor addressed the girl roughly. “If you’re acting,” he cried, “you’d better give it up, because I’m certain to find out, and if I do, I’ll send you to jail.” Still the girl paid no attention but only stared ahead blankly. “So you won’t answer, eh?” said her inquisitor. “Going to force my hand, are you?” He raised his hand to signal Duncan and then added: “Go.” The loud report of the revolver, while it made Gibbs jump, had no effect upon the young woman. Taylor shook his head wisely. “I guess she’s deaf and dumb all right, poor girl. What’s it all about, Gibbs? What is it you think she’s done?” “She’s got a bracelet chuck-full of diamonds, and we can’t find it.”